Crucible
by caratrosin
Summary: Haruno Sakura never develops a crush on one surly Uchiha boy. We follow the trail of destruction this change wreaks. [nanowrimo 2017] [sakura-centric]
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Crucible

 **Summary:** Haruno Sakura never develops a crush on one surly Uchiha boy. We follow the trail of destruction this change wreaks. [nanowrimo 2017] [sakura-centric]

 **Rating:** T for FUTURE violence, swearing

 **Genre:** Adventure

 **Characters:** Haruno Sakura, Yamanaka Ino

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"Can't you see him?" Twitching at the impromptu distraction from Iruka-sensei's lecture on kunai types, I followed her gaze to–

-oh no.

 _Again?_

Well, to answer her - sure, I could. Considering he was sitting _right in front of me_. And I had _functional eyes_. That, however, did not mean I had to devote my entire being into what I had internally dubbed 'Sasuke-watching'.

Like birdwatching, with the binoculars and everything.

Just, instead of birds, it was one highly unimpressed Sasuke.

Dramatically sighing, she sprawled out on the desk, pencil skittering off the edge. No attempt was made to pick it back up – and if anything, that irritated me just as much as her waxing lyrical about Sasuke. "So dreamy. Look at that hair. I bet it'd be so soft." Flicking her hair off the table – some of it unceremoniously smacked my face – she managed to somehow make her persistent gaze even more intense. "Isn't he gorgeous?"

"You're looking at the back of his head." Hissing out my rebuke in a vain attempt not to attract the hawk-eyed glare of Iruka (still doggedly persevering, despite a good portion of the class not even looking in his direction), I started up taking notes again, despite the fact my eyelids' only, deepest wish was to slide shut and stay like that.

"Yeah, but it's a nice back." Really, it was amazing how Ino had the gall to pout at the accusation lacing my tone – namely that the borderline stalker behaviour really was going too far. Had been for a while, actually. Fine as a passing joke, sure, but it really wasn't funny anymore and I wish she'd just go back to-

RIIIIING.

Up like a shot, Sasuke was darting out, having apparently already packed up his things in anticipation for a hasty retreat. Seemingly a prudent choice, as his steps were hounded by a pack of my 'classmates' (as if they were turning up to the Academy to _study_ ), hot on his heels.

Including Ino, apparently.

Swallowing thickly, I gave her pencil – still on the floor, gathering dust – a vicious kick, finding some perverse joy in watching it snap against the desks, the other side of the central walkway.

Serves her right.

(Really, though, I couldn't help but be disgusted by the bite of bitterness festering at the base of my throat.)

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Neatly highlighting the last title – duralumin alloys, one of a series of different alloys kunai could be made from, and their respective pros and cons – I huffed, watching my pages of notes flutter slightly on my desk. That familiar surge of satisfaction at a job well done was subdued, buried under layer after layer of _numb_.

Well, now that I knew more than I could ever want (or need) to know about kunai alloys – there wasn't a lot to do, really.

Mama and Papa wouldn't be back from their market stall for two hours, at least, and even then they'd be busy. They had to make the most of the recent upswing in business – it was the only increase in sales they'd seen for years, and it came after a long spell of building debts and steadily cinching belts.

Really, I couldn't fault them for anything. They were trying their best.

Someone I _could_ fault was Ino.

Fawning over Sasuke, making all these plans centred around Sasuke – that was all I heard around her these days, anyway. Look how dumb Sasuke looks in those arm warmers. Look how constipated he looks all the time, probably because there was a background track of giggles to his life at this point. Look how much I care about all these new friends who – guess what? – also have an unhealthy obsession over Sasuke.

Going to any of my usual haunts was right out – which was a shame, because I could really do with a sweet treat right now. Or three. Regardless of the potential cavities that might ensure. Undoubtedly, however, Ino had taken _them_ – her newly founded pack of Sasuke-obsessives – around to all of them. Tainting them. I didn't want to see her stupid face – not now, probably not ever.

Besides, this had been a long time coming – weeks, maybe even _months_ of a steadily growing fixation on him.

Ditching me after school (for _him_!) was just the last straw.

Groaning, I flopped onto my bed, boneless. Just thinking about her for an extended period of time had put me into a foul mood – one that didn't seem to be dissipating any time soon.

Well – what could I do, then?

Perhaps I could read. I'd already read all the books in the house in the house (a pitiful number, and not much of an achievement, really) only – what about the Konoha public library? Didn't the Uchiha have that huge compound by the village outskirts, anyway? So he wouldn't have any need to go to the public library – meaning no Ino, or her merry band of sycophants.

Sounded _brilliant_.

Giving my hair a brief once-over – absently, I noted that it was getting a little awkwardly long and that haircut was required before it grew into something that would look uncomfortably like a mullet – I tugged on my sandals; and as an afterthought, I snatched up my notebook and pen. Perhaps I'd find something interesting to research further. Or maybe I'd just curl up on the (mildly musty) sofas with one of those fantasy novellas.

A guaranteed Ino-free activity that could occupy me for a few hours until dinner.

As perfect as it got, really.

Nearly forgetting to lock the house up in my haste – now, that was one telling-off I wouldn't be looking forward to – I picked my way around the loose mid-afternoon crowds that aimlessly milled around Konoha, giving a few waves to my parent's business partners and close friends as they manned their own stalls, streets decked in every colour of the rainbow.

On some days, I really could just sit by one of the stalls and gaze out at the veritable waterfall of colours, and the soothing chatter of nameless passer-byes. This, however, was not one of those days.

I was on a _mission_.

Didn't that sound cool, though? Like I was part of some secret organisation under the Hokage, slinking around the streets at night and catching all the-

"Sakura!"

Startling, I whipped around, a grin growing on my face as I saw who it was. "Mama!"

"How are you doing?" Tottering over, several armful's worth of richly coloured rugs precariously balanced on top of each other and just about held in place by her, she gave me a half-pat on the head – and I could swear that she was magic, with her touch leaving a residual warmth and phantom sensation lingering right on the crown of my head. "Where's Ino?"

Apparently, my current opinion on Ino was something of an open book.

Mama's smile drained away. "A falling out?" No, came my reflexive answer, bubbling up through several layers of 'think before you speak', yet I kept it down because how could I explain that this wasn't just _falling out_? "Oh, I'm sorry Sakura – hopefully you make up soon. I have to go now, though – these rugs won't deliver themselves!" Unsurprisingly, her jovial tone fell flat on its face.

"Bye, Mama." Good mood well and truly dead in a ditch, I made the rest of the trek to the library with what I would probably describe as a morose twist to my lips. Ino would-

-no, she wouldn't, because we weren't interacting any more. Or, at least, interacting beyond the level of casual acquaintances. Of desk mates who suffered from severe and irrevocable differences in opinion.

It really didn't matter, _at all_ , that Ino would tell me that it was definitely a sulky pout and whisk me off on some sketchy imaginary adventure around Konoha, fighting dragons and Iwa-nin alike until she got me to crack a grin.

By the time I got to the library steps, my disposition had further darkened – only my acrimony was easily swamped by my jittery nerves as I pushed open the grand front doors - crafted by the Shodai himself, Iruka's level tones reminded me, and all of a sudden I really didn't want to so much as _touch_ the door lest it somehow fall apart under my hands.

First time I'd been here alone.

Swallowing with a remarkably dry throat, I quelled the tremble of my hands. After all, there was a first for everything, wasn't there?

Flashing my ID at the dozy genin guard – darting a gaze at the card, he gave me a lazy wave forwards before his eyes slid to stare blankly at some space in between the air and the wall – I trotted around the sections, uncomfortably making brief eye contact with the chuunin guards for the genin and above area before focusing my attention back to the books I was actually allowed to read.

…goodness, how was I going to choose?

Fantasy, sci-fi, romance, mystery – and that was just the fiction section. Though, it did make bringing along all my writing equipment seem a bit of a waste.

Perhaps reading some of the informative books would help boost my grade a little. Boost it past _Sasuke_ , even – and wouldn't that be amazing? Definitely something to aim for. It was getting a little irritating, how his practical scores seemed to totally supersede my superior theoretical knowledge, and I wasn't quite prepared to be up at the crack of dawn running laps to rectify that, so, well…

Nodding to myself, I wandered the most deserted aisles, debating the pros and cons of each. No more weapons lectures, at least, or I would actually take a nap right here, no matter how unnerving that librarian was at the desk. Or the chuunin guards. How about – genjutsu?

Interesting.

Curiously, we'd never really covered it in any sort of depth or detail – only vague allusions to it and its uses were ever covered, and Iruka was quick (too quick) to change subject whenever it was brought up. Maybe this was why – so that only students dedicated enough to research it could get their hands on the techniques.

Hefting a rather chunky book – coated in dust, too, and stinking like years of abandonment – I stumbled to the nearest desk and chair, dropping it on to the table with an almighty thump that I feared would send the library guards running; thankfully (for my poor heart) none did.

Now inspecting the book on the table, it was far thicker than I had initially been expecting.

What, exactly, had I let myself in for?

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words so far: 1,772

word target for today: 1,700

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 **AN:**

ok so let's get this out of the way - I'm SO SORRY for not updating like any of my stories. I'm just - really busy. All the time. Right now, even. I can see my pile of revision and homework to my right, and a planner full of deadlines on my left.

this will be a short note too - like I said, short of time ect ect.

Also - **I do not expect to get to 50,000 words during the month**. just putting that out there. I'll just try my best, and as long as I know I've done my best, I'll be happy.

anyway

if you want to comment on anything, if you catch any spelling/grammar errors, if you just fancy it - please leave a review! it makes me happy to know people are reading my works.

thank you!

\- rosinban


	2. Chapter 2

warning has totally NOT been properly proofread so I apologise in advance for any dodgy wording or the distinct sensation that this is a subpar piece of writing!

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 _Excerpt from A Study on Genjutsu, 12 A.K., written by Kurama Takeru._

'There is a very large disparity between the genjutsu of a master and that of someone who sees it merely as a blunt-force tool.

Those who see it simply as another trick to gain a minor advantage over a similarly skilled enemy memorise the hand seals, practice it on a trusting friend a few times, and call it a job done. It is a clunky thing, much like attempting to hit someone over the head with a book full of knowledge on how to craft weaponry – slow, ineffective, and a huge waste of potential.

Moreover, oft these 'one size fits all' genjutsu that are passed around like cheap tricks are largely ineffective, and leave their users distinctly disappointed when their enemy _miraculously_ breaks out within half a second at most, hence much of the questioning that occurs on why it is considered a major shinobi art.

Simply put, one of these genjutsu is the equivalent of trying to convince the enemy that a tree opposing them is blue. Naturally, their mind rejects this reality that has been imposed on them, hence a quick and easy escape – and by making the divisions between reality and genjutsu so blindingly obvious, you have done most of the work for them.

Victims under the genjutsu of a master do not know they have been afflicted, and this is the most insidious part of it all.

Naturally, this starts with a first step – preying on their weaknesses. A suspicious mind – the mind of your enemy, for example – will be looking for potential attacks. So – provide it to them. Feign the glint of steel in the underbrush. A slight rustle of leaves. Birdsong abruptly ceases, and the flutter of wings ensue. And when you have convinced them that their enemy lies to their far left, you approach from the right with a blade in your hand.

True masters can even disguise the sensation of foreign chakra by manipulation of the brain – naturally, you would also wish they had many prisoners of war or the like to experiment on, as the brain is a finicky thing, and thus often a genjutsu master's path is one littered with many, many failures.'

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"Hey, Sakura, I didn't see you in the market yesterday." No. I wasn't even going to _look_ at her. Honestly, she comes sidling in today like that makes up for weeks of doing her level best to replace me in every facet of her life. "We haven't hung out for a while, actually – you know-"

"-oh, look, there's Sasuke." Sure enough, even as I did my level best to sound unenthusiastic rather than _seething_ , he strolled in, casting a few suspicious glances at one group in the back corner who were giggling rather disturbingly loudly. Ino's gaze went rapt.

Just like that – her attention caught.

"Oh, he's wearing a long-sleeved top today." Gritting my teeth, I attempted to make her spiel fade into the background hum of chatter. "Don't think he's worn that for a while – not since March, at least. I wonder – hey, Sakura, are you listening?"

Well, what do _you_ think, Ino?

Just as it hit my tongue, I bit it back, and inhaling deeply, I ensured my head was turned to the front so as not to encourage her. Or the scathing comments that threatened to spill out. If I had to be the mature, sensible one in this case ( _since Ino sure wasn't_ ) then so be it.

"Alright, Sakura, what's up?" Something that might be construed as concern touched upon her voice, and she leaned around to be in my field of vision. "You've been, well – I don't know – distant. Irritable."

"Oh, I don't know why don't you ask _Sasuke-kun_?" 'Stunned' was a perfect descriptor of the expression that passed her face, even as she recoiled – for goodness knows what reason, she hadn't been expecting such vitriol. Perhaps she was expecting some heart-to-heart about Sasuke's daily routine.

"Sakura-"

"Alright, let's take the register sharpish, and then out to the field for morning exercises!" A groan went up, yet otherwise the class sank into silence, sensible enough not to test Iruka's patience so early in the day.

"This conversation isn't over." Flinching away from Ino's whispered promise (almost sounding like a _threat_ , and really, who did she think she was, threatening _me_ for her own choices) I shifted an arm's length away.

In my opinion, it really was.

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For the next few days, I did my level best to avoid her at every turn. Uncomfortably squishing myself in between Aburame Shino and the wall seemed to do the trick just fine, if only because her ingrained disgust towards bugs won out over her desire to 'continue the conversation' with me, and doing a Sasuke (that is, racing out the door the instant the bell went off) at the end of the day postponed the inevitable.

That is, I knew Ino wouldn't give up, and it only took me slipping up once.

That, unfortunately, occurred during the Academy, thus eliminating my one and only back up plan of _run like hell_ in the case of confrontation.

"Sakura." Sharply inhaling, my head whipped around, kunai clenched tightly in my hand. There weren't even any kunai in her target – had she even _tried_ to practice kunai throwing before coming over? "Please – what have I done wrong?" Pleading.

Guilt swam in my stomach.

"I don't know, what do you think?" Another throw – too short, hitting the outer ring.

"Is – is it Sasuke-kun?" Seemingly a bitter pill to swallow, if her hesitance was anything to go by. "I'm pretty sure you don't approve-"

"Pretty sure?"

"Okay, absolutely certain, but – there's no reason why I can't balance both, right?" Hope danced on her tone – as if I was going to go out of my way to join her in ' _Sasuke-watching'_ just to make her happy. "Maybe you could join me-"

"Absolutely not."

Huffing, she folded her arms – just like a petulant toddler, not receiving the toy they asked for on demand. "I was going to say join me to the new café that opened on the fifth street, and we could chat and maybe I could watch Sasuke pass for his groceries-"

Seriously? What part of that plan, exactly, was supposed to appeal to me in the slightest? "No."

"I'm trying to work with you-"

"Then kindly take your attempts somewhere else."

"Sakura!" Genuine irritation laced her voice for a moment, before quietening again – accompanied by the tell-tale sounds of breathing exercises. "I just want to enjoy being a child and being able to do all these stupid things before I'm too old and have duties breathing down my neck. We're never going to get the opportunity to be a child again. You know you're doing fine - more than enough to pass, in fact. Indulge yourself for once, Sakura."

…well, now I had an explanation.

Really, I didn't like how logical it was sounding – even to the point where it was definitely sounding too tempting for my liking – really, I could see it from her perspective, that we were so close to graduation now, that there was so little time left-

-that, however, didn't mean I wanted to spend it staring at the back of Sasuke's head.

Only – well, I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't miss Ino. Hollow library aisles and hours of studying didn't really compare to her, and all the exuberance associated, even if I was infinitely more productive than before.

Not like this, though.

I could already imagine it – uncomfortable silence settling as she eagerly waited by the window, waiting for Sasuke pass while I thought of all the things that I'd rather be doing, rather than watching a not-quite-friend wait for the subject of her infatuation to hurry past.

"Look," and I turned to meet her imploring gaze, and almost faltered at the joy that sparked through them, "I'm not interested in spending my time fawning after, well," pulling a face, I gestured vaguely in the Uchiha's direction. Bulls-eyes littered his target. _Of course_. "him. But-" that dimming optimism in her eyes re-ignited, "-I will stop avoiding you."

There.

Olive branch.

"Alright." Seeming somewhat defeated, she accepted the concession – and for a moment, she paused and lingered with a wistful twist to her lips, seemingly wanting to add to the conversation – only she simply gave a jerky nod, before picking her way through the throngs of other classmates, back to her target.

That had never happened before. Holding back her words. It had always been everything that occurred to her, she'd blurt out – clearly, though, her character had taken a severe swerve away from mine.

Swallowing, I dismissed it, turning back to my abandoned blunted kunai pile – and sweat beaded on my brow as I saw Iruka approaching with a clipboard, taking note of results.

Hastily snatching up one of the blades and clenching the hilt tight enough to ache, I let it fly while desperately wishing for something (anything) approaching the centre – yet, of course, it hit an inch above. Behind me, I could hear the skritch-scratch of a pen.

Disappointment sank in my bones, and not all of it was because of my subpar bukijutsu skills.

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"Back again?" Tensing up, I span around to face the librarian at the counter, peering at me over a pair of owl-rimmed glasses. "You've been here an awful lot recently, actually. Planning on taking the graduation exam soon?"

"Ah, no-"

"Really?" Surprise leaked into her tone, and I uncomfortably shifted under her scrutiny, as if she were searching for any tells of a lie. "Well, what are you studying so much for then?"

"I'm learning about genjutsu."

Freezing, she gave me another discerning once-over than sent chills through my bones, before letting out a single syllable. "Ah."

"Is there… anything wrong with that?"

"Not at all." Came her harried answer, a little too quick for my liking. "No, not at all, my dear. You won't find anything useful in this area, however – everything about actually casting them is in the genin-restricted section."

"It's still interesting." Finding the need to defend my free time - well, hobby at this point – my brain was whirring. Of course they would restrict it. They didn't want Academy level children getting their hands on potentially devastating genjutsu and mangling them to the point of potentially causing their unwitting victim permanent chakra or brain damage.

Though, it did set a distinctly futile tone to the notes I held in my hands.

"Well, if you're interested in the topic," slowly, she withdrew a sheet from behind her desk that looked suspiciously like paperwork. "You can put in a request for access to that section, and ask your Academy teacher to vouch for you."

Oh – well, that'd be extremely useful, wouldn't it? As much fun as learning the concepts behind utilising genjutsu correctly and some airy comments about yin chakra was, actually being able to cast them would be far more interesting.

Besides, I must have a solid enough foundation in the topic by _now_ , surely.

With a slight spring in my step, I went back to what I thought of as my encyclopaedia for all things genjutsu, somewhat grateful that the endless afternoons of drudging through Kurama Takeru's warbling praise on all things genjutsu would finally be coming to a close.

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word count for this chapter: 1,913  
word count up to now: 3,685  
target: 3,400

shrieks

sorry I'm super short on time rn no time for a proper AN! hope you all have a good day and thank you so much for all the follows/favourites and a big shout out to my wonderful REVIEWERS you're all amazing thank you so much!

got a physics test tmmr so gotta blast!

\- danna


	3. Chapter 3

(major edits 04/11/2017)

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 _Excerpt from On Genjutsu, 42 A.K. by Mitsui Akira (edited by [redacted] to comply with Act IAS.3.27)_

'Genjutsu has often been perceived as an 'underhanded' art by many – mostly civilians who could never truly appreciate the beauty of our art in any case, yet by some foolish young ninja too. In response, I say that forfeiting use of a technique that could save your life, that could save your comrade's life, is far worse than being perceived as being somewhat 'underhanded'.

Regardless, that does not change public opinion of it – however, reader; public opinion does not make it any less crucial. Just as there is yin and yang, for the 'yang' that many consider ninja arts should comprise of, there are the 'yin' that ninja arts must include, else they would not be ninja. They would be glorified samurai.

Alas, with the deteriorating opinion of genjutsu users due to a few bad eggs, I fear that is where we shall be headed very soon – a world where academy students are taught exclusively in force, and not enough in the mind. Hopefully I shall not live long enough to see my art die. It will be a sad thing indeed, when the ninja ranks do not understand yin.'

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Groaning, I thumped my head on the table, balefully glaring at the deceptively innocent looking papers on my desk. Many – if not all – of the questions in section three boiled down to 'what are you going to do with the information' – oh, but they were phrased _slightly differently_ , so of course that justified asking again.

If Mama or Papa even so much as alluded to me becoming an accountant, I could now give them a completely honest flat out _no_ – I quite liked having brain cells, and I could feel them dying off every time with every ' _new_ ' question.

Huffing, I unstuck my cheek from my desk and tightened my grip on my pen, desperately attempting to summon up some vestige of determination–

–no.

It really just wasn't happening.

Maybe Ino had the right idea, enjoying her youth. Running around in the sun. Not stuck inside doing _paperwork_ to try and get my hands on some special books. Interesting special books, to be sure, but still – the principle remained.

Leaning back on the hind legs of my chair, I gnawed on the end of my pen. Walking into the library to study genjutsu now would be a little uncomfortable, considering this sheet, given to me by the librarian themselves, was still not finished, and the librarian had essentially told me what I was studying was – although interesting – rather useless.

Ino was still a big, fat no.

Somehow, one conversation (hardly that, more like her making flimsy excuses for abandoning me) wasn't enough to reverse my feelings about her and her stupid face.

Gaze wandering over to my bedroom door – calendar still taped up, a few dates circled with red marker and neatly annotated – it went further over to the left, with the gleam of metal catching my eye. Perhaps – well, it wouldn't be fantastically enjoyable, per se, but… weapons practice?

Thinking about it, there was that training ground close in to the Academy – four, I think – that was generally for Academy students, unless it was specifically booked out by some ninja. Still, that was unlikely, considering it was essentially unofficial Academy grounds.

Admittedly, I needed the practice.

No need to get shown up any more by Uchiha bulls-eyes-every-time Sasuke – and it was vastly preferable to more paperwork. Or moping around the house – being that unproductive rankled, and more studying really wasn't sounding as appealing as usual. Or, gods forbid, trying to meet up with Ino while she hid out in a bin, waiting for the Uchiha to go buy some tomatoes or whatever it was he did in his free time.

My goodness, this was a change. Me, volunteering to do more physical activity. Not necessarily a positive change, either – a mixed bag, if I was going to be honest, but – well, most things were. Perhaps this was just some valuable life experience I needed.

Ugh. I sounded _old_.

Sometimes I hated how Ino made so much sense.

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Too short.

Another was thrown, and as soon as it left my hand, I _knew_ it was too far over to the left – and still had to watch it as it stuck in the target on the outer edge - my goodness, if this had actually been a fight, that wouldn't have even counted as a _threat_ , really.

It was _that_ far off.

Letting out a shriek of frustration, I stormed up and yanked the kunai out of the target, peppered with many more kunai indents than previously. To my eternal shame, the tree it was pinned up on also had a few new holes in it.

Exhaling slowly, I paced a few times in front of the assortment of targets. If I couldn't consistently get a bulls-eye on a mid-distance stationary target, how could I ever hope to pass the graduation exams? Apparently they had moving, long-distance targets.

Shivering a little at the prospect, I stood in front of the target again, no calmer than before.

What was I doing wrong? Experimentally, I flicked my wrist a few times, just as Mizuki had shown us – only I abruptly noticed that the motion was almost, well, lazy. Compared to the instructor's clean movements, always unwavering. Meanwhile, mine was almost wobbly in comparison, not nearly as consistent. Not consistent at all, actually – which would naturally also impact my aim.

How did I rectify that, then?

…probably rote repetition, paying _very_ close attention to the angle my wrist finished at. No more carelessly flinging the kunai and miraculously expecting it to fix itself – as I could clearly see now, although it superficially looked fine, it really wasn't.

Ah, if only there were shortcuts to learning.

Keeping the grip on my kunai _just_ loose enough – still enough to keep it steady, yet enough to correctly throw it rather than just hurl it – and facing the target, on the count of my exhale, I threw – and it hit just a tad off the centre, in the inner ring. Still, though, an awful lot closer than many of my previous attempts – and I liked to hope that it wasn't just sheer, blind luck this time.

Now just to keep doing that – that is, a level of concentration I usually reserved for well, learning, as opposed to the blind, autonomous repetition of exercises – until I developed a more reliable muscle memory. Or better intuition for kunai throwing. Either would suffice.

Neither would come about without some significant effort on my part.

Sighing, I slumped a little. Really, the things I did – all in the name of bettering myself as a ninja. Admittedly, though – kunai throwing was something of a staple. If I thought about it, it was rather indicative of that 'decline of quality of education' that I sometimes heard older ninjas preach about. After all, during wartime, I would have already _graduated_.

Shuddering, I rid myself of the thought (it really was incredibly lucky that I was born into peaceful times) instead wrenching my kunai out of the board, relishing at the new mark close in to the middle that I'd left.

Besides, at least it was something to do while Ino was still, well–

The next kunai sank into the wood just an inch off the centre with a satisfyingly loud thunk.

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"Iruka-sensei, could you vouch for me on this?" Blinking a little, he sat up a little straighter, gaze flicking between my face and the papers in my hands.

"Alright, let me just read it over first." Handing them over, I hopped from foot to foot as he employed a rather unnervingly bland expression while flitting over the sheets. Before, well, right now, I hadn't considered him refusing to vouch for me on some basis, yet now it seemed rather too real a possibility for me to be entirely comfortable. "You're interested in genjutsu?"

"Yes?"

"There's nothing wrong with that." Reassuringly, a smile spread on his face, and I felt tension I hadn't even realised was there draining out of my bones as he signed the bottom. It was all fine. My lacklustre answers towards the end hadn't been called out. "It's always great to see a student so passionate about their work. Though, I must remind you that if you want to actually perform any genjutsu, you should ask one of the instructors here or a ninja chuunin or above to supervise."

"Absolutely," and I definitely meant it, certainly after some of the more grisly things detailed in my readings up to now, "Thank you very much!"

"It's really no issue, as long as you're responsible – which I know you are." Turning back to his marking, he gestured with his shoulder towards the playground, where many of my classmates had congregated to play a giant game of 'duck duck goose'. "Now, go and enjoy the sun, before you hole yourself up in the library."

"I'm not," –and paused, as I considered what my plans had been for when I received my pass– "Well, I mean–"

"Don't worry about it." Clearly amused, he began filling out whatever he'd been doing before I turned up, and I took it as a dismissal, rushing out with my mildly crumpled paperwork now officially signed.

 _Officially_.

Still pondering about the implications the fact that I, a ten-year-old minor, could officially submit papers as I settled down on one of the benches, I half-heartedly began rereading over my papers for anything I could have possibly missed or could rephrase. Really – I would be glad once these were happily out of my sight and in the hands of whatever unlucky soul processed these things.

"Sakura!" Familiar enough with Ino's exuberant greetings, I didn't – wait, _Ino_?

"Yes?" Internally, I flinched at how icy my tone was – especially considering that honestly, despite my now very deep resentment towards Ino, quite literally anything was a good distraction. That included Naruto and Kiba's fart jokes. Still, I didn't take it back. "Not hounding the Uchiha's every step?" Carefully, I lightened my tone – not enough to necessarily be welcoming, but enough to not be offensively frigid.

"None of us can work out where he's gone," well, in all honesty he probably needed the break, "but instead of a futile search mission I decided I'd much rather hang out with you." At the end, she gave what I personally believed to be a patented Ino Wink, just clumsy enough to be endearing and made a certain, unique warmth bubble in my stomach.

Still– "Thanks for treating me as your second option." Naturally, I couldn't help but fixate on that rather relevant point. She had the decency to look sheepish.

That – stung. Really, it did. Not even _guilty_ , not even questioning her order of priorities as she _stared me in the face_.

"I'm sorry, Sakura. Really." Then her mouth opened again and I almost shushed her, not wanting her to spout her feeble 'excuses'. "Only, well, it'd rather ruin the act if I simply dropped everything, as head of the Uchiha Sasuke fan club."

"If you're going to pretend that I'm not second-class to your dearest Sasuke-kun, I'd rather you leave." And she began forming another word and this time I really did snap. "That meant _leave_ , Ino." Any semblance of a good mood had well and truly died a rather unceremonious death.

Hurt flickered across her face, and an apology was on the tip of my tongue (I'm sorry Ino – I really do still think of you as a friend, just not a very good one, and one who I'm currently rather irritated at but I _promise_ -) only she turned away, expression neatly blanked into tenuous neutrality, and I watched her receding back, still not daring to let out a single word.

Why did I still consider her a friend, anyway?

After all, I feel in just that conversation that we'd made it abundantly clear that our friendship had finally managed to be whittled away by none other than _Uchiha Sasuke_ – and really, the whole thing burned my heart, to the point that I could almost swear I physically felt an aching pain. Particularly the _Sasuke_ part.

Slowly exhaling, I buried my face in my hands, paperwork heavy on my lap. Alone, with my books. A rather poor substitute, I had to say.

One, however, that apparently I had to make.

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words in this chapter: 2,090

words so far: 5,775

target words: 5,100

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 **AN:**

this is the edited version of the earlier chapter! didn't like the one before, so I essentially deleted a big portion out of the middle and added another conversation w Ino to the end!

while I'm here, I felt it would be very disrespectful if I didn't mention a big inspiration of mine, and what encouraged me to put the snippets of 'books' at the start in order to further flesh out my little fiction-verse: **To the Stars by Hieronym**. It's a Madoka Magica fic, so maybe not everyone here will be interested, but I promise that it's fantastic. really.

will reply to stuff later, I'm just... tired. and overworked. and stressed. haha

\- rosinban


	4. Chapter 4

"Sakura! There's a letter for you!" Drowsily blinking, I staggered out of my room half-asleep, all too aware of how I really shouldn't be awake for another half-hour. However, Mama wouldn't pull me out of bed unless it was serious.

"Who's it from?" Running a quick hand through my hair I did my best to hurry down the stairs, finding that haste somewhat conflicted with my current state of 'not-quite-awake'.

"The Intelligence Department, honey."

…oh.

Well, I had handed in the paperwork after school a few days ago – to their desk in the bottom floor of the Hokage Tower, because actually entering the Intelligence building was a terrifying prospect – and perhaps they were simply following up on that. Did I fill out anything _wrong_? Oh gosh, that really wouldn't be setting a good tone to my future career. Hopefully it would just be confirmation, or something much less serious than – well, failure to answer basic questions.

Only once I was in the kitchen did I clock Mama's worry – her usually tan skin was a tad paler than it really should be, and instead of a heartfelt smile, instead her expression was taught, almost as if her grin had been stretched too far and cracked.

"It's fine, Mama, I was expecting it." Well, not entirely, but Mama really needed some reassurance.

Oh, but of _course_. She was only a civilian.

Snatching up the parchment on the kitchen table – almost innocuous, except for the fact that it was sealed with the Konoha Intelligence seal – I neatly unrolled it, carefully scanning its contents.

' _To Haruno Sakura (Konoha Academy temporary ninja registration number: 012717)_

 _Your request for access to the Genjutsu section (books registration E38102 to F19355) has been processed. Please visit the Torture and Interrogation building_ ' and here I blanched, tightly fisting the paper, 'for a fifteen minute mandatory meeting in order to receive your permit.

 _The meeting will occur between 10:25 and 10:40 on April 4_ _th_ _59 A.K_ ' oh my goodness, that was today! ' _– as such, a pass to leave your lessons between 10:05 and 11:00 on the day has been attached. We suggest you arrive ten minutes before your meeting, as tardiness is be frowned upon._

 _Non-attendance will be treated as wastage of resources and a fixed penalty fee shall be imposed (Act GOR.2.3) as a first-time offender._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _The Intelligence Department_

 _REF: KOJI/49072_ '

Okay. I could deal with this. Just a friendly, quarter-hour meeting _inside the T+I building_ about a permit for some special books that I definitely couldn't back out of now and didn't have any valid reason to miss aside from being terrified of the department in general, and with good reason too-

"Sakura?" Came Mama's tentative question, clearly having picked up on my inner distress at the totally not forced meeting with T+I that I would have to be attending later today.

"Just–" swallowing, I neatly rolled the paper up again, looking through the second, smaller bit of paper that had been attached – the permit. "Just a meeting, Mama."

"With the Intelligence Department?" Scepticism laced her tone, as her cheeks regained colour and she folded her arms, employing the dreaded 'demanding parent' look that I could never refuse. "Oh yes, just a friendly little letter correspondence with Intelligence. Sakura, what is this for?"

"Permits to see some books in the Genin section of the library."

Lips tightening, she squinted for a moment, as if she could see dishonesty wafting off me. "Uh-huh. Why do you need to see these books anyway? Can't you just wait until you…" and if anything, her tone dropped colder, "…become a _genin_?"

"Well, yes," hedging, I dragged my gaze from my feet to Mama – and immediately dropped it to the floor again at her glare that could put Mizuki-sensei to shame for 'terrifying looks'. "I find this topic really interesting, is all. And – oh, look at the time. Got to get ready for school!" Spinning on my heel and dashing up the stairs, I listened out for any enraged shouts for answers (that, to be honest, I probably deserved) and when none came, finally let out a breath of exhaustion.

Really, I hadn't even had the meeting with T+I yet, and already felt like I had been interrogated.

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Okay. I could do this.

Breathing in deeply through my nostrils, I reached out a hand towards the door – and snatched it away at last moment, heart pounding.

No. I really couldn't.

Really, I wasn't pushed for time at all – having pretty much flat-out sprinted from the Academy to the squat, concrete building that housed what was pretty much unanimously decreed the most terrifying place to be in Konoha, I still had a leisurely fifteen minutes before my meeting was to actually start.

Just – it was _T and I_.

Every child's worst nightmare – next to ANBU, of course. Portrayed as heroes, naturally, and they all served an essential purpose for the Village – however, they were really the kind of thing that skulked around in dark corners and made little children scream.

Inhaling, I screwed my eyes shut, pushed open the door, and tentatively opened an eye when nothing scaly grabbed my arm and there was no screaming. Though, it did stink of disinfectant, which did slightly concern me.

Regardless.

Not as bad as I thought – well lit, with a few chairs scattered around, it could almost be considered cosy in a doctor's surgery kind of way. A solid block of concrete, sure, but cosier than expected.

Tentatively stepping in, I shut the door behind me, ignoring the way that several sets of eyes fixed upon me. Carefully keeping my posture and expression blank, I strode to the desk – and then felt my throat close up as the receptionist turned to me.

Oh my goodness. I didn't want to make a fool of myself.

"Yes?" They directed a bland, expectant gaze towards me, still somehow writing all the time.

"I have a meeting at ten-twenty-five?" Internally, I winced as it came out as a question, uncomfortably shifting on the spot as they continued staring blankly down at me. "Um…"

"Sit down." Backpedalling, I sat on one of the couches, disappointed that, despite their comfortable, spongy appearance, they were actually rather unpleasant to sit on – and no more conversation was forthcoming.

…okay.

Well.

Taking out my notes from today – strategy centred around taking advantage of being on high ground – I began summarising, shifting a little as the other residents of the waiting room _continued staring_.

Two minutes. Still staring. Barely moving at all, actually. Not moving at all.

Was this… a test? That level of, well, unmoving-ness was quite frankly unnatural. Humans twitched. Their attention wandered. They sneezed, their chin itched, they blinked. Yet they were still staring, their eyes blank and eerily devoid of life.

Was it all – just an _illusion_?

At this rate, that seemed incredibly likely. Plus, I was in T+I. Of course this was the kind of thing they'd toss at their visitors, just to try to gauge them before whatever interrogation I was about to endure. So – how would I go about breaking out of it, then? We hadn't covered that in the Academy yet.

Weren't supposed to until the last year. Clearly, they didn't expect me to know how.

So they wanted me to work it out.

Frowning, I determinedly stared back at one of the 'people' across from me – modelled after a Yamanaka, if the all-too-familiar features were anything to go by – easily identifying all the inconsistencies I identified in passing earlier. An unnatural level of stillness. No blinking. Additionally, now I realised there was no indent on the chair from where they were seated.

Well.

Someone had threaded a chakra construct over me, likely with purposeful defects like the ones I'd easily detected. Perhaps if I focused on what the room should like – namely, that they shouldn't be there – and, well, then what?

All right. Chakra, weaved over me. So, perhaps I had to use my own chakra to remove it? Well, it would be more useful than sitting here and squinting , expecting for it to unravel itself – which would be a rather miserable failure of the test, really.

Focusing inwards, I put my hands into a ram seal, just as I had when first learning to control my chakra, and expelled outwards, focusing intently on the fact that likely everyone in the room was part of the illusion – and the world _rippled_ before my eyes, settling back into an empty room–

"Took you long enough." Squeaking, I jumped up, spinning around to face an amused looking chuunin holding a clipboard and noting something down – likely something uncomplimentary, if her words were anything to go by. "Sit down over here, now–" gesturing to the extremely uncomfortable looking plastic chair opposite her, "–and we'll get started."

Hopping over the sofa, I settled down in the chair – just as cold and discomforting as I had expected, and if I had to sit in it for a long period of time I knew my back would be aching; yet, I wouldn't even be surprised if these were all just _tame_ tactics they used to soften people up before asking them anything.

"All right. What's your name?"

Lifting an eyebrow, I nonetheless acquiesced. "Haruno Sakura."

"Okay, Sakura-chan." Pen hovering over paper, I couldn't help but feel this was what a job interview would be like. "Can you tell me why you are here?"

"To receive a permit to access genin-level genjutsu books?"

"Which books _exactly_ are you asking permission to read?"

Was she asking for the registration numbers of the books? Searching back in my mind (looking back at the letter to see which ones would likely be a resounding failure), I tentatively gave an answer. "E-three-eight-one-oh-two to F-one-nine-three-five-five?"

Ugh. This was like a test.

One I hadn't revised for, that is, which only made the whole ordeal worse.

"What Act of Konohan Law allows you to have this permit?" They still gave the impression of unassailable aloofness – though, if I didn't know any better, I would say they were taking some measure of joy out of watching me struggle.

This was written at the top of all that paperwork I filled out, wasn't it? "Act, uh, IAS-four-three?" Ooh – or it could be 5.2, or – heck, it could be so many other things, and I just went for the one that my gut lurched towards, and really, my gut instinct was a rather fickle thing.

At this point, I envied those who actually had dependable gut instincts. Really, I could do with some of that right now.

"Would you be disappointed if I told you that you couldn't receive a permit for those books?"

"I would ask why." Pausing, as immediately their hand began scrawling across the paper at a rather high speed (oh goodness what are they writing? A tendency to question superiors? Incapability to listen to instructions?), I hastily added, "I would be, to a limited extent, disappointed."

"Only to a limited extent?" Challenge entered her tone, and she locked gazes with me. As a reflex, I sent my own to the ground.

"I would eventually gain access to them anyway." That really was true enough. There were many more Academy-encouraged disciplines for me to study, and I still hadn't had a good rummage through their fiction section.

"What if you couldn't?"

Ah, hypotheticals. This really was some kind of convoluted exam, wasn't it? "All the more reason to ask why I wouldn't be allowed access."

"What if I couldn't tell you why?"

Pulling a face, I shrugged. Really, might as well continue with the honesty at this point. There was no getting me out of the hole I'd dug for myself, if they disapproved of my opinions. "I'd assume there was good reason for doing so, and look for something else to do."

"Well, it's a great thing that you are getting your permit today, Sakura-chan!" Startling – that abrupt personality change could have given me whiplash, seriously – I simply stared dumbly as she pushed a small card into my hand, name and photo already printed on it, Intelligence's seal of approval in the bottom corner.

This was certainly a turn.

"Also, the T and I department would like to give you an offer of a sponsorship!"

… _what?_

Blinking, I gazed at the card, searching for a lie, and then meeting her eyes – that were quite clearly brimming with barely-concealed amusement. "Clarify, please?" Came my weak response, fully aware that I was about six steps behind at this point.

"Normally, you would've just picked up your permit in Intelligence and have been good to go. However," and the word was stretched out, the entertained curl of her lips clearly pushing for a reaction, "what you just went through was a preliminary test to see if you had the attributes we look for in T and I officers – which you did, I am pleased to say. The fact you were slow to break the genjutsu can be attributed to the fact that you have never encountered a genjutsu before," how, exactly did they know that? "and therefore a little over three minutes wasn't too bad of a time."

"Right." This was – incredibly surreal. Pinching myself, I confirmed it wasn't a dream. "What does this sponsorship entail?"

"Well, we give you specialist instruction in the ninja arts – focused on skills used in Intelligence, of course, but it's still fairly well-rounded – and a bursary of around 150,000 ryo per year." At this point, my eyes must have been the size of dinner plates. They had that much money just to – what, throw around on _apprentices_?

Seemingly anticipating my question on _how much money do you have just_ languishing _in this place_ , she gave a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yes, we have quite a budget. T and I isn't exactly the go-to place for genin, you know?" Pausing, her gaze briefly sharpened again, before her expression softened again. "Naturally, if we sponsor you, we expect you to do two years of work here too, starting from when you graduate. Flexible scheduling, of course, so you can go do all your genin team stuff on the side. After the two years, you can go work elsewhere if you want, though we still might call you back for the odd job now and again."

Okay. That sounded – amazing, actually. No more struggling along by myself, a bursary, and all that was required in return was to briefly work in T and I? That was a guaranteed job, too.

Still, caution kicked in. "Could I decide later, or do I have to give an answer now?" There was no way I was being pressured into a contract with T+I, no matter how sunshine and rainbows she was making the deal seem.

After all, she was part of T and I too.

They were quite literally _the_ department of psychological manipulation.

"Within the next week – that is, final deadline is the 11th." Abruptly standing – I hastened to follow, brushing down my pinafore and face scrunching up at the aches running down the backs of my legs and spine (what a horrible chair, really – you could've sworn they designed it to be uncomfortable) she began leading me to the door.

Strange. I could've sworn it was further over to the right when I entered.

"Remember that being sponsored by T and I doesn't limit you to this department or the Intelligence Division. Having our seal of approval is respected by all the other departments, as it is an indication of logical problem-solvers, well versed in psychological tactics." For a moment, it seemed she was sizing me up for a moment, before giving me a wicked smile. "I know that ANBU in particular value it highly, if you aspire to be one of that illustrious group."

"A-ah. Yes." I think I really needed to sit down and think. A lot. About everything. "Thank _you_!" With my emphatic parting, I exited the building, hoping that I was actually outside and not having been unwittingly dumped into another genjutsu-verse for the kicks they probably got out of making Academy students squirm.

That place really was screwing with my perception of space. Was this further right than how I entered?

Briefly looking over my shoulder, I confirmed that it at least appeared to be the door I entered through.

You know what – I just wasn't going to think about that. At all. No thank you. In fact, I was going to spend my walk back to the Academy not thinking about T+I at all – no, I'd be enjoying fresh air and sunlight and not being encased in a concrete bunker.

Huffing, I began the walk back, significantly slower and somehow far more concerned about my future leaving the building than I had been before entering.

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word count this chapter: 2,815  
words so far: 8,590

 **notice:** the 50,000 target, I have decided, is unsustainable for me. I mean, I would be able to do it, but not without sacrifices from all my other work, which isn't really an option for me. honestly, I already regret not revising enough for my french last week bc I was writing, and the consequences are 100% going to come back to haunt me, so.  
 **new target of 25,000!**  
effectively halving the amount of time I need to spend writing per day, which should be sustainable.

target word count for today: 4,200  
(target words per day: 840)

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 **AN:**

so! as I have already said, I have no idea where I am going with this! it's actually quite liberating ngl but is also probably the reason I spend so long writing since I'm constantly deleting sections where I don't like what it's doing to the plot haha  
happy guy fawkes day!  
I saw some rlly great fireworks yesterday and the music was all disney songs which imo was a good decision 10/10

I keep on putting it off but I will be editing ch2 and replying to reviews tommorrow, since I was so unproductive yesterday and now have way too much to do today orz

thank you so much for all your continued support! even if I haven't replied to your review, I guarantee I've read it and they always encourage me to keep on writing. a big thanks to everyone who has followed/favourited ILY ALL

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\- rosinban


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